Prosper
by Mr Bellatrix Lestrange
Summary: A young Gabrielle Delacour suffers from Wizards Tourettes and Fleur decides not to give in and help her little sister.


**A/N: Written for Kelseyysaurus 's Mental Disorders Challenge.**

**Gabrielle Delacour with Tourette's Syndrome.**

**And here I think it must be different from our Muggle TS. **

"I'm sorry!" Gabrielle yelled, tears streaking down her distraught face. Fleur had to bite her tongue to stop the insults flowing. Had to refrain from slapping her, and telling her that sorry doesn't make things better. Fleur felt for Gabby, she really did, but she felt more for the victim. She understood both sides, even if one more than the other.

It was no longer a case of childhood magic. No, Gabrielle had gotten her wand and been at Beauxbatons for almost two years now. It wasn't just accidental biffs. It was every. Single. Day.

And she couldn't stop it.

It'd been cute when she was a baby. Well, it hadn't been diagnosed then either. But she would do little things like emit sparkles, or float around the house. Typical. Adorable.

And as she grew up, so did her symptoms. At all hours of the day, sometimes even at night, in her dreams- where no one could harm her. But she could harm others.

Silly.

Now it no longer was any of the above. It iced Fleur's insides to think. The Muggle doctors had diagnosed it but much help that had been. Now they just had a name. Now Gabby was a label.

They'd thought they could do it, they really had. How stupid they had been. Putting Gabrielle on the pressure, on the fire. Because as she grew so did the overwhelming demand to not. Hurt. Anyone.

So they'd tried. The four of them- big happy family- going to a family oriented restaurant to put her to the test- will her _**not to make a mistake**_. She could go and be normal and not hurt a soul. She had to.

Fleur did feel bad for her, truly. How Gabby was a person caged by her defaults, maimed by her malfunctions. It wasn't her fault directly, yet she suffered endlessly like so. The blood on her hands like play paint. It was all she could do.

No longer were the curses meaningless. If she'd never learned of Avada, maybe they wouldn't **BE** here. But by the by it happened, Fleur could see it as far as anyone.

Truthfully yes, Gabby hadn't meant to do anything bad. Hadn't meant to be disgraceful and feared and terrorized. She wasn't, she was a little girl, but she was branded. And she was wanted.

There wasn't much Fleur knew about her anymore, it was hard to of course. She wasn't afraid but she kept away. Because she felt for the victim. And nothing Gabby could do would soften the ragged pit in Fleur's stomach.

So being an older sister she could try and try, but she'd never see past the devil in little girls clothes- her sister's clothes. What monster would put such a person on the planet, who would leave so much a burden to bear?

Fleur just lay there, not thinking of the tic her little sister possessed, or of the calm front she pretended. Slapping on fake smiles, never releasing tears.

Gabrielle entered the room so quietly, looking angelic and everything and Fleur hated her for perceiving such a lie. But she could never do anything against it, because of course she was the better person, and Gabby depended on her. Her sleek hair, silky clothes. How people could look like something so opposite of what they were on the inside was a wonder.

"I'm jealous of you y'know," Gabby would say, tears no longer swimming in her eyes. Voice steady and confident, like she'd practiced it a hundred times in front of the mirror.

And, sitting up, Fleur would know why. Fleur could move on from this, leave it behind, call it all a bad memory of the past. She could grow and prosper and have a family. Do good, be good. And Gabrielle could not. This was her reality, not just a foggy nightmare she would one day wake up from.

Could Fleur possibly help her with that? Would it make sense to continue the charade? She knew she could, but it was against her will to want to.

"You can get up and walk away at any moment." She'd say, looking at Fleur, asking almost if she had the strength to continue. Needing to know if her older sister was in on the trick.

Of course that was the plan, always had been. She'd never been stupid. Gabby couldn't prosper and didn't need to hold Fleur down too, didn't need more guilt on her conscience.

Gabrielle should keep her distance, never get close, for else hurt the ones she loves; obviously she must've known _**that**_. It'd make no sense to go from there, and just turn the other cheek. To shackle down and hurt those around her.

So Gabby leaned down and kissed Fleur's. Her lips so freckled and soft, forming wonders on Fleur's face. What a lie.

Was she influenced, was this another bout, another branch? Fleur wasn't even positive if she was all there. But of course she couldn't be sure. She couldn't be sure of much these days.


End file.
